No road closed
Gone are the days when a street (an entire street) was closed because someone in the neighbourhood was holding a party. There was no ‘Road Closed’ sign to indicate to the public. The road was just closed. And, in most cases, no approval was sought from the Council. Those were the days when ‘anything goes’ – the days of Old Lagos. The road was closed for no other reason but ‘ariya’ – merriment. Someone might be celebrating birthday or wedding or funeral or even ‘turning the sides’ of a long-dead father or mother who might not have been well looked after in their lifetime. The road was closed and the music was loud. The only good thing in it all was that all comers were welcomed – those who bought the ‘aso-ebi’ and those who didn’t buy the uniform but who ‘heard and branched’.
Residents knew that there would be a party when they saw rams being slaughtered in front of the celebrant’s house. The fumes from the firewood and the aroma of the food prepared by the ‘aganyin’ women, those Beninoise and Togolese cordon bleu, also alerted the residents to the ‘ariya’ about to happen. The ‘aganyin’ women preceeded the present day caterers. Their food was better prepared and tastier than what we were used to. It might be because of the ingredients such as ginger and garlic that they used to marinate their meat before boiling it. The meat wasn’t too hard or too soft, just the right texture. And also because the women didn’t use much oil in cooking. Well before the ‘aganyin’ women, it was the younger wives in the family who used to perform the chores of cooking at a family’s gathering. The older – or should one say the more established wives – used to supervise the younger women.
Nowadays we use the services of various caterers such as ‘Wine and Gold’ managed by amiable Deola Makanjuola, KemaBom run by ever graceful Bimbo Oyenuga and her adorable daughters, Kemi and Bomi, BB Caterers run by Biola Agunbiade-Bello, a dependable childhood friend and many others. These women (and men) ply their trade from Lagos to Kafanchan. The trend started in Lagos, City of Excellence, but has spread nationwide. The amazing thing is that the Lagos based caterers are often contracted outside the city. Even some of them, like Mama Cass, were bold enough to open up restaurants in London.
There was no Nigerian restaurant in London while were young and growing up. My big brother, Akin, used to take us to Indian restaurants on Edgware Road to eat a dish that reminded one of Mama’s ‘efo riro’. Years later we started to hear of a Nigerian restaurant in north London called Mama Calabar. It was on our fifth or sixth visit that I learnt it belonged to a mixed couple, Ugandan husband and Nigerian wife. I demanded to say hello to the couple and found out that the woman was Helen Duke, my erstwhile college daughter. Sad to say that Mama Calabar is no longer in Hendon. Can’t say where they moved to. On the heels of Mama Calabar was Taris in Canning Town which, I gathered lately, has also closed down.
When a friend had a book launch, I and some other friends decided to support him by providing ‘small chops’. We thought of getting finger-bites from a food store but the writer friend was against. He suggested ‘akara’, ‘mossa’ and fried fish. And you know what? The ‘small chops’ were appreciated by all who attended the book launch. The food culture in London is changing. The London eater has become open-minded. Firstly, he’s ready to consume food from all corners of the world. And secondly, food has moved from restaurants into the streets. City gents and ladies are mostly the fans of street food. During the week, go to any market from Leather Lane to Brixton, you’ll see white-collar gents and well-dressed ladies queuing in front of kiosks ready to purchase their lunch. They line up to place and get their orders which they eat in a park near-by or somewhere quiet or which they take back to the office. It’s a fast-food life but with home-made food. Deadlines must be met in the office so one doesn’t have the luxury of going to a restaurant and spending too much time placing order and waiting for it to arrive. Among these street food vendors are Jollof Box in Spitafields Market and MamaPut at Aldgate Market with various Nigerian food to satisfy the appetite of the open-minded London diner. Nigerians and Naija-lovers don’t have to wait any longer for the annual Nottinghill Carnival, holding on the last weekend in August, for the Nigerian cuisine. The mountain has come to ‘Mohammed’.
I’m chuffed that Nigeria is contributing to the food culture in the United Kingdom without having to close the street.
Cameron’s Fantastic List
The departed British Prime Minister, David Cameron, submitted the names on his honour list and, surprise, surprise, it revealed names of his ‘cronies’. There must be a mistake somewhere. Those who read the list should either adjust their glasses or their sight. They did and found that it was a list ‘fantastically’ filled up with cronies. Talk of someone being ‘fantastically corrupt’. HRH Prince Charles once said that the past sometimes comes up to give us a knock on the teeth. Whose teeth are getting some rap now?
